


I’m hoping with chance, you might take this dance

by blue_eyed



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 12:18:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_eyed/pseuds/blue_eyed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is mostly plotless. It was originally written for the Texts From Last Night challenge over at <a href="http://mating-games.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://mating-games.livejournal.com/"></a><b>mating_games</b>, until it mutated into something that didn’t even come close to fitting the text, so I wrote another one. Title from Ready for the floor by Hot Chip. Unbetad, unread, etc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I’m hoping with chance, you might take this dance

Scott slid through the crowd, until he reached the bar and the bass wasn’t thudding quite as loudly. He wanted another drink, the novelty of being able to drink legally not yet fully worn off. He lost Stiles a while back, probably still on the dance floor. Scott tried to wave the barman down, but it wasn’t working.

“Hey, McCall, you getting a drink or not?” Scott whirled around to see Jackson, and he sighed internally. He didn’t have the energy to deal with Jackson’s douchebaggery, he wanted to have fun.

“Trying to,” Scott replied. Jackson smirked and leaned forward on the bar, getting the attention of the barman easily. Scott gaped.

“How did you do that?”

“You’ve got to have the moves, McCall,” Jackson said, smirking. Scott felt himself blush and Jackson just smirked more. “So, what you having?”

“What? No, thank you.”

“Don’t be idiotic. What are you having?”

“Beer,” Scott grunted.

“Two beers,” Jackson said. The barman brought their orders and Jackson handed a bottle to Scott. “Didn’t think this was your scene, McCall.”

Scott shrugged. “Stiles wanted to come.”

“Yeah, I saw Stilinski. He looking like he was having fun on the dance floor,” Jackson commented, grimacing. Scott hope that it was true, that Stiles was getting lucky. Scott took a drink, the coolness of it shocking in the humid room. He became aware of Jackson watching him. When Scott looked back Jackson took a drink, and Scott’s eyes were drawn to Jackson’s throat, the movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.

Scott flushed even more, he could feel sweat running down his back, making him shudder. Suddenly Jackson seemed very very close.

Jackson looked up slightly as the song changed to something a bit slower, with a filthy beat. The mood of the room changed abruptly and everyone was dancing with or against someone.

“You want to have some fun?” Jackson asked, voice low in Scott’s ear.

“What?” Scott asked, pretty sure he was misinterpreting Jackson’s intent.

“One time offer, if not you I can go find someone else.” Jackson shrugged and took another long pull of his beer. He put the bottle on the bar and turned to walk to the dance floor.

Scott had grabbed his arm before he could think about it. Jackson turned back and raised an eyebrow, not moving.

Scott took a deep breath. “Come on, then. Show me what you’ve got,” Scott said, inwardly victorious at Jackson’s shocked look. He regained his composure, and met Scott’s eyes.

“You’re on, McCall.”

They walked to the dance floor and Jackson started moving his hips to the beat. He crowded Scott, not touching, but close enough that Scott could smell Jackson’s cologne. Scott started to move to the music. Jackson nodded approvingly, and Scott got a bit more into the music, movements becoming more open. He moved closer to Jackson, wondering how brave he could be tonight.

Jackson grabbed Scott’s hips and pulled him closer, moving their hips together. Scott gasped, and his cock started to chub up, pressing against his jeans. That decided that for him, Scott thought.

“Come on, McCall,” Jackson goaded. Scott growled under his breath and lifted his hands. He flexed his fingers and then slid them around Jackson’s waist, fingers brushing the top of his ass.

Scott tugged slightly, and Jackson’s hips pressed fully against Scott’s. Scott groaned, because fuck, that was Jackson’s dick, hard against his thigh. Never mind Jackson’s hip providing some much needed pressure against his own erection.

“Fuck, yeah,” Jackson muttered. Scott was fully hard and aching, so focused on his dick and Jackson’s firm ass under his hands that he didn’t think about the fact he was currently grinding against Jackson fucking Whittermore, and if he let out a small giggle at that choice of words, well no one appeared to notice.

“So,” Scott said as the song started to wind down. “How much fun is on the table?”

“Woah, McCall, didn’t think you had it in you,” Jackson pulled back, eyeing Scott. “Come on,” Jackson said, pulling Scott off the dance floor. “I’m not having sex in the bathroom of a sleazy club.”

“The porsche?” Scott asked, blankly, brain still focusing on the word ‘sex’. Sex with Jackson.

Jackson snorted and walked out into the night. It was a nice night, cool and clear. He shoved Scott into a cab and then shoved his hands up Scott’s shirt, kissing him.

Scott opened his mouth in shock and Jackson slid his tongue inside, tasting of shitty beer. Scott kissed back, fingers clenched in Jackson’s shirt. Scott bit at Jackson’s throat, sucking a mark into it The car eased to a stop and the driver coughed uncomfortably. Jackson pulled back and shoved Scott out the car, throwing money at the man.

Luckily Jackson’s apartment was on the bottom floor.

As soon as the door shut behind them Jackson was _attacking_ Scott, filthy kisses and hands everywhere, driving Scott crazy.

Scott had never undone a belt that wasn’t his own before. It was surprisingly difficult, although some of that might have been the alcohol.

Jackson tugs Scott into the bedroom by his belt, making Scott stumble over his own feet. Jackson slammed the bedroom door shut then slammed Scott against it, making Scott growl and rip at Jackson’s jeans.

“Fuck, wait,” Jackson said, pulling back and kicking off his jeans and underwear. Scott stared at Jackson’s erection, poking out from under his teeshirt. Scott wasn’t sure if it was ridiculous or just plain hot. Jackson pulled off his shirt, and Scott’s mind went offline.

Scott blinked and started shucking his own jeans, sighing when the pressure on his erection eased. Jackson looked him up and down, and Scott flushed all over again, hot and shaky.

He took a deep breath and moved forward, pushing Jackson towards the bed. Jackson made an ‘oof’ sound when he hit the bed, and Scott crawled over him.

“So, what now, McCall?” Jackson smirked up at him Scott’s mind was impressively blank, so he went with the obvious: he thrust against Jackson, counting it as a win when Jackson swore and threw his head back into the pillow.

Jackson grabbed Scott’s ass and squeezed, pulling him closer.

“Fuck,” Scott swore, aware they probably looked ridiculous, but he was too focused on chasing his orgasm to care. His balls ached with the need to come, and he could feel Jackson’s cock, hard and hot against his. Scott realised he was going to come all over Jackson’s dick and the blinding hotness of the idea slammed through him.

Scott shuddered, heat pooling at the base of his spine. Fuck, he was going to come.

“I’m gonna-” was all he managed before he came over Jackson, groaning. Jackson swore loudly, fingers digging painfully into Scott’s ass as he thrust hard. Scott whimpered, feeling over-sensitive and shuddery.

Jackson came, and Scott gasped as he felt hot liquid spilling over his softening dick.

Scott all but collapsed, just managing to roll off Jackson first. He lay there, panting at the ceiling.

“So that was weird?” Scott asked, wincing when he realised what he just said

“Dude, shut up and go to sleep. You can blow me in the morning.”

“If you blow me first,” Scott replied, rolling over. He wasn’t about to turn down a blow job, not even from Jackson.


End file.
